Oneshots
by SomeoneI'mSure
Summary: A couple of alternate universe oneshots where anything can happen. Prompts and requests are open!
1. Oneshots 1-5

Oneshot #1

 _BluestarxThrushpelt_

* * *

Bluefur was barely listening to her sister ramble on and on about some tom she had met at the Gathering, and her eyes drifting across camp to a familiar pelt.

 _"Why is he so small?"_

 _"That is because he was recently made a warrior," said her mother._

 _"He must be really brave!"_

Bluefur couldn't quite get the tom out of her head. He was brave, sure, and loyal to the warrior code. He would make an excellent father to her kits. Bluefur shuddered at the thought.

"You should ask to become his mate."

Bluefur hadn't realized her sister had gone quiet and was watching her until Snowfur spoke. "Huh?"

Snowfur rolled her eyes, amused. "They should have called you Cloudfur, you have so much fluff in your brain." Snowfur purred. "I said, 'You should ask him to become your mate.'"

Bluefur blinked at her sister and then stared at Thrushpelt. He was more then six moons older than her, but not old enough to be out of her league.

 _"Was that your first hunting session?" He sounded impressed as he looked down at her. She had been an apprentice but the compliment had set her entire coat on fire._

The Clan had praised her for her catch, but Bluefur had only cared about Thrushpelt's compliment. Now, he was all she could think about.

"I think I will," she meowed, flashing her sister a smile. "Wish me luck!"

Bluefur never regretted the decision even after she lost her first litter in a fox attack and became deputy. They never had another litter, but Bluestar was grateful for his support and mourned him when he died. When she started to fall apart, dreams of Thrushpelt and her kits reminded her of her destiny to save the Clan.

* * *

Oneshot #2

 _When Bluestar goes to meet Tigerclaw in Cinderpaw's stead._

* * *

Bluestar coughed as her chest shuddered with greencough. She tried to suppress the coughs but she couldn't. Her broken hindleg sent jolts of pain through her body with each painful cough, until finally she succumbed and darkness filled her vision.

 _She was standing in the center of a forest of trees made entirely out of mist and starlight. Her tiny daughter stood before her, staring up at her with wide sorrowful eyes. Bluestar looked back at her, speechless, a prickling sensation along her back making her fur stand up on end._

 _"Am I dead?" she asked her kit._

 _Mosskit nodded. "You shouldn't have left." Her ears twitched anxiously. "ThunderClan needs you to survive your injury, Bluestar."_

 _Bluestar knew she had only two lives left, and now one of them was slipping through her claws. It didn't make any sense._

 _"Is Tigerclaw nearby? He said he would meet me here."_

 _A flash of some emotion Bluestar couldn't identify flickered across Mosskit's face. "Remember, Bluestar, 'fire alone can save our clan'."_

With a sudden jolt, Bluestar awoke to a world of pain. She recognized the dry smells of the medicine cat den instantly as she felt herself being lowered to the floor. Yellowfang's flashed her fangs and snapped at the cats around them, chasing them off. The dark grey she-cat offered her some poppy seeds and Bluestar instantly fell back into the darkness.

When she awoke, Bluestar was groggy and weak. She no longer felt like her lungs would explode at any moment. She looked around at the empty medicine cat den before her eyes settled on her leg. It was tied up in cobwebs and seemed to be locked in a wooden makeshift split. When she moved, she had to bite back a yowl of pain.

"Bluestar," said a familiar meow. She looked up into the white face of her nephew.

"Whitestorm," she said, a hint of relief in her voice. "What happened? Where is Tigerclaw?"

Whitestorm's face twitched in pain, looking very grave. "Bluestar, there is something you need to hear."

Bluestar listened but could not believe her own ears. Whitestorm recounted the bustle of the Clan when it was discovered she had disappeared and every cat was frantic with wanting to track her down. Fireheart had seemingly immediately understood what was happening and he took Cinderpaw with him to the place where Tigerclaw was waiting for them. Fireheart had ordered Cinderpaw to hide in case it was a trap, and Cinderpaw had watched as Tigerclaw attacked Fireheart. When Whitestorm's patrol arrived, Tigerclaw claimed Fireheart had attacked Bluestar, but Cinderpaw had told them the truth.

Bluestar's head spun with shock and pain. She stared incomprehensibly at her nephew as if he had just spoken twoleg. Her deputy had trapped her...?

Mosskit's words echoed in her mind even as her attention shifted to Whitestorm, who looked sad and apprehensive. Suddenly, she remembered Goosefeather's words.

"Forgive me StarClan! He was not supposed to live!"

"I want to speak with my Clan," she meowed, her mouth dry.

"Rest first," said Whitestorm. "You shouldn't appear to the Clan in your condition. We have Tigerclaw in the prison den. He isn't goong anywhere."

Bluestar hardly heard him but she nodded mutely and he left her to her thoughts. Bluestar feot horrible. How could she have not seen the signs? Tigerclaw was Thistleclaw's apprentice. They had shared too much of the same darkness from the start. Bluestar felt like a fool.

I can correct this, she thought. I can appoint a new deputy. Her thoughts drifted to Mosskit's words but she dismissed them. Fireheart was far too young to be deputy. Her thoughts immediately turned to her remaining senior warrior. She hoped StarClan would approve.

* * *

"Cats old enough to catch their own prey, join here beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!"

Bluestar's leg was beyond repair but she insisted on climbing the High Rock despite it. She wasnt about to let the injury stop her from speaking to her Clanmates or journeying to the Gathering. She looked down upon her Clan, at her new deputy, Whitestorm, and then at the apprentices who twitched eagerly waiting for her words. The whole Clan already knew what to expect.

"I, Bluestar, ask our warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentice. They have trained hard to understand your noble code and I commend them as warriors in their turn." She looked down at the she-cat. "Cinderpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior and protect this Clan even at the cost of your own life?"

Cinderpaw nodded, her whole body trembling with barely contained excitement. "I do!"

"Then, from this moment on you shall be known sss s Cinderheart. StarClan thanks you for your courage and energy and we welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan!"

* * *

Oneshot #3

 _Yellowfang Never Became a Medicine Cat_

* * *

Yellowfang watched proudly as her son and daughters padded around camp, three strong ShadowClan apprentices. The pale ginger she-cat, Wishpaw, and the creamy she-cat, Hopepaw, were like gifts from StarClan, with a pension for keeping their brother's ego in check. Yellowfang purred in amusement as the three of them rolled in the grass and mud.

"They are just like us," purred a familiar voice.

The dark grey she-cat purred at her mate. "It's good to see you, Raggedpelt. Or should I be calling you Raggedstar?"

The dark brown tom bowed his head. "I have my nine lives now, Yellowfang." His eyes gleamed in excitement.

"I hope you aren't going to forget me in the middle of all your new duties." Yellowfang sounded almost grumpy.

Raggedstar bumped her shoulder with his head. Amusement sparkled in his eyes. "I would never forget about you. You wouldn't let me."

"True that," said Yellowfang, curling her tail around Raggedstar's.

Yellowfang had never been more happy to have remained a warrior. Even though now ShadowClan was without a medicine cat, she could stand here with her mate while watching her kits slowly become the warriors they were always meant to be.

* * *

Oneshot #4

 _When No One is Leader of ThunderClan_

* * *

Fireheart could barely believe it. He was numb, watching as the Clan bristled and flexed around him like a living breathing mass of anger. The whole Clan faced down their deputy and stared down at the bloody mess of grayish-blue fur. Fireheart's heart pounded in his chest, an endless rhythmic pounding that seemed to go on forever.

Why wasn't she rising? Fireheart had no idea how many lives she had left. A chill rippled through his pelt. Had that been her last one?

Fireheart could barely hear what was happening around him. He felt someone press into his side and he glanced sideways at his apprentice and nephew, Cloudpaw, whose eyes were so round they were as big as the full moon. Another cat appeared on his otherside and pressed into his fur and he couldn't bring himself to react to the ginger she-cat.

A ripple of unease spread through the Clan as they began to gathering around the fallen body of their leader. When Fireheart looked around, he noticed that Tigerclaw was nowhere to be seen. Had he missed what happened to the tom?

Whitestorm nosed his way through the crowd of cats and dropped down beside Bluestar's still body, resting his head on her shoulder. Fireheart followed, padding away from Cloudpaw and Sandstorm to rest his head against his leader's head. Her scent filled her nose, faint and cold. He curled around her, trying to get his thoughts together as grief finally welled up and pushed away the numbness.

 _I failed you,_ he thought, _I'm so sorry._

* * *

The Clan was leaderless and silent. Darkstripe had tried to step up and become the new leader, but everyone had quickly shot down that idea because of his prior relationship with Tigerclaw. Some turned their heads towards Brokenstar, while others nominated Whitestorm for the position of leader. Everyone waited with baited breath for some sign from StarClan as to who would become the next leader.

Meanwhile, the Clan was starting to look and act less and less like a Clan. Whitestorm was the only surviving senior warrior and he took up position as the unofficial deputy, organizing patrols and making sure the Clan was both fed and still keeping up regular border patrols.

Fireheart emerged from the warrior den, still numb from Bluestar's death a few days earlier. The noise of the camp moving about in stony silence made his pelt crawl with anxiety. How could the Clan survive what was to come? They were effectively a group of rogues, with only the Warrior Code preventing them from truely falling apart. How were they going to survive the next season without a leader with nine lives to guide them?

Fireheart padded towards Whitestorm, who greeted him with a nod.

"It's good to see you up and about again, Fireheart. I have just finished sending out the sunhigh patrols," meowed Whitestorm. He studied Fireheart's face calmly and knowingly. "You are worried about the Clan."

"How can we be a Clan without a leader?" asked Fireheart, glancing around. He just joined the Clan when he was six moons old, and he was not keen on losing his only home so soon after bringing his nephew and second apprentice into the Clan.

Whitestorm frowned. "I don't know." The white warrior gazed over his fellow Clanmates. "No one could have expected this."

"Actually, that isn't true," said Fireheart. "I knew Tigerclaw wanted to take over the Clan. He killed Redtail in the hopes that he'd become deputy."

Whitestorm bowed his head. "That hardly matters now," he meowed sadly. "Let us just pray that StarClan will send us a message soon."

Fireheart nodded, his gaze traveling up the stars.

 _Please, StarClan,_ he thought _. Send us a sign soon._

* * *

Oneshot #5 _  
_

 _Darkstripe Becomes Leader of ThunderClan (Continued From Previous Oneshot)_

* * *

Bluestar was dead; Tigerclaw was exiled. With Whitestorm too old to become leader, that left the only other nearly senior warrior as the only available candidate. All he needed was a way to get into power (and convince the others of his awesomeness).

Darkstripe had never been particularly ambitious, but even he could see that the opportunity was too good to miss. Besides,being leader of Thunderclan was better than being one of its lowly warriors. He had trained two apprentices who had proved themselves as loyal ThunderClan warriors. Sure, he hadn't made a good impression on the Clan when they exiled Tigerclaw, but Darkstripe could argue that he hadn't really smelled the opportunity until now.

The dark grey tabby didn't even bother to glance around as he bent to chow down on the mouse beneath his paws. It was greenleaf and the forest was full of rich, fat prey. The Clan wouldn't miss the prey Darkstripe ate. He stared thoughtfully down at the mouse, however, studying the darker grey fur that was unusual for the usually brown creatures. In the right light, it could look like his own pelt. Suddenly, Darkstripe wasn't so hungry as he sniffed curiously at his freshkill. Then, he smiled to himself.

He hadn't even had to go searching. StarClan had landed his chance right into his paws. Darkstripe purred; he liked when things went his way. He picked up the piece of prey - along with his other catches - and brought it back to camp, careful to put to put the dark grey mouse in the right light and to leave it where only the medicine cat could possibly find it. Then he padded to the edge of the camp and watched eagerly and expectantly for Yellowfang - or hopefully Cinderpelt - to notice.

Instead, Darkstripe felt almost horrified as a familiar red ginger tom headed towards the medicine cat den and halted, as if smelling something. Darkstripe was fully aware of where the mouse lay, just out of sight in the shadows, and he tensed in shock as Fireheart quickly found the freshkill.

 _Don't touch the prey, you dumb kittypet!_

The ginger tom paused and leaned back, his eyes flickering around in confusion. Then he disappeared into the medicine cat den. Darkstripe felt like his fur was about to fall off his pelt in shock. Darkstripe was even more shocked when Yellowfang stepped out of the medicine cat den, her hard yellow gaze flat as she searched around for the prey Darkstripe had left behind. She sniffed it curiously and disdainfully before turning around and going back in.

 _And...?_

Darkstripe couldn't yet bring himself to be disappointed. Yellowfang was an ex-ShadowClan cat. If necessary, she could be convinced of his legitimacy. Not that he had anything to convince her... Darkstripe was suddenly reminded how very little he had planned for this and how very easily it could fall apart.

 _StarClan chose this for me! I'm only doing what they want! They won't reject me; even they understand that this Clan needs a leader or it will fall apart! Why not me?_

Darkstripe clawed the earth in uncertainty, the loose dirty collecting between his toes. Tigerclaw had a chance; he was stronger, older and much better at everything than Darkstripe was. He was the only logical choice for ThunderClan's next leader.

 _Yet he's the one banished._

Encouraged, Darkstripe turned away from the medicine cat den and slipped into the warrior den. For the first time in his life, he would put his faith in StarClan. Excitement prickled his paws and he curled up to sleep. He didn't go into a deep sleep, for the first time his excitement keeping him as a light sleeper.

A paw prodded his side and he woke to the smell of Whitestorm close by. "Darkstripe, Cinderpelt and Yellowfang want to speak with you."

Blinking, Darkstripe stared at the warrior for a long moment even as the unofficial deputy turned and walked out. Excitement suddenly filled Darkstripe's paws but he mentally told himself to reign himself in. He groomed himself so his fur was all flat, before he sauntered out of the warriors den. He spotted Cinderpelt and Yellowfang right away and he immediately headed over, his fur prickling with excitement.

"What is it?" he asked tersely.

"As if you had anything better to do," snapped Yellowfang, fur prickling and her eyes screaming, "You lazy foxdung! I know what you did!"

Darkstripe's fur prickled uneasily. Yellowfang always unnerved him, and not just because she wasn't ThunderClan. "Says the medicine cat who hadn't even noticed Brokenstar was plotting with the enemy." He turned his attention to Cinderpelt. "What did you want?"

Cinderpelt smiled, but Darkstripe felt that it was forced. "StarClan must be smiling on you Darkstripe. They've sent a sign and chosen you as the new leader of ThunderClan."

Darkstripe felt his fur fluff up in pride and his face twisted in smug satisfaction. "I see," he said. "It's good that StarClan recognizes a loyal warrior."

Yellowfang gave him a look so cold it could have caused snow to suddenly explode out of the ground. Cinderpelt didn't even notice as she leaned forward. "I'll announce it to the Clan soon. Yellowfang will take you to see StarClan and have your leadership ceremony."

Darkstripe got the uncomfortable feeling that Cinderpelt was staring straight through her pelt. The idea of asking Cinderpelt to come instead of the ex-ShadowClan cat evaporated with his discomfort. Darkstripe hid his discomfort behind a sneer. "Well, then, hurry up."

Yellowfang's fur rippled as she padded away and leaped up onto the Highrock, yowling for the attention of the Clan. She explained the sign of the dark grey mouse with black stripes and said it was a sign from StarClan that Darkstripe was to become the next leader. Darkstripe noticed immediately how unenthused the entire Clan was with this news, and suddenly the smug satisfaction began to evaporate.

 _But StarClan chose me._

Darkstripe bounded up to the top of the Highrock and noticed the faces of the cats down below watching him with a mixture of outright hatred - Cloudpaw looked ready to laser him with his blue eye beams - and resignation - Fireheart looked like his entire world was crumbling beneath his paws - and various degrees of hope, pride and disgust. This was not what Darkstripe imagined his Clan would look like when he took over.

 _That kittypet has really softened them up._

Darkstripe looked at the expression on Fireheart's face and couldn't help being pleased by it.

"Cats of ThunderClan! I welcome this great honor bestowed upon me by our warrior ancestors and I promise to lead ThunderClan well in the times to come!" Unease filled him at the dead silence of the Clan. He bowed his head, trying to mask his confusion. "My first act as leader will be to make sure our Clan is no longer without a deputy. Unfortunately, since Bluestar has been buried and Tigerclaw is no longer with us, there is no one but StarClan and us to witness this."

He glanced around the Clan and his gaze settled on Longtail before dismissing him as a coward and dismissing Dustpelt as too inexperienced. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. "I say these words before StarClan, that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice. Whitestorm will be the new deputy of ThunderClan. Whitestorm, you are a good warrior and have proven you are good a deputy as well."

Whitestorm blinked and bowed his head. "Darkstripe - Darkstar - cats of ThunderClan, I have always been honored to serve the Clan and I swear I will do everything I can to serve you."

The Clan errupted into meows of congratulation, shouting "Whitestorm! Whitestorm!" Darkstripe felt strangely neglected.

 _The Clan will see me for the warrior I am eventually. StarClan has already seen it, so why not them?_

Darkstripe's gaze drifted to Fireheart, who had rushed forward to congratulate Whitestorm with the rest of the Clan. The ginger tom looked sad, as if he knew what would inevitably come. Darkstripe narrowed his eyes, but decided against throwing the kittypets out, even if Cloudpaw was annoying as fox-scent. The Clan was going to need more warriors in case Tigerclaw comes back. He wasn't going to be pleased Darkstripe had done something Tigerclaw had not. A shiver went up his spine. Maybe becoming the leader was a bad idea.

Frowning, Darkstripe bounded down the High Rock and padded over toward Yellowfang. "Whenever you're ready, medicine cat."

"I'm already ready, 'leader cat'," meowed Yellowfang. "Cinderpelt, the herbs?"

The young medicine cat nodded and hobbled away to collect the herbs. Darkstripe could already tell the trip to Highstoneswas going to be uncomfortable.


	2. Oneshots 6-10

**Oneshot #7 dedicated to my first reviewer, I-really-hope-not!  
**

 **Oneshot #10 dedicated to TheAlphaofDarkness! Though, I'm sure you'll want to check out Oneshot #7 as well. :)  
**

* * *

Oneshot #6

 _JayfeatherxStick kinda (humor)  
_

* * *

Jayfeather padded through the dense forest down a familiar path to his stick's hiding place. It was stashed out of sight beneath the lip of a cave entrance. Jayfeather pawed around until he felt his paw touch the scratched sides of the stick. He quickly pulled it to his chest and to the side of his face.

"Hello?" he said into the stick. "Hello, hello?"

For a few seconds, the white static of the forest around him seemed almost deafening. Then he heard the response.

"What? Who's this? Is someone calling me?"

Jayfeather felt disappointment drop his heart into his belly. "Oh, sorry, Rock."

"Sorry? Sorry about wh- are you trying to talk to the stick again?"

The medicine cat felt his pelt prickle with embarrassment. "Uhm, sorry, wrong number!"

"You stupid cat! You know it can't talk! Are you- wait a second... are you using the stick to-!"

"NOPE, SORRY, BYE!" Jayfeather immediately threw the stick on the ground. The white noise of the forest returned. Jayfeather had never felt more embarrassed in his life. He had an inkling of what Rock was going to say, but he really didn't want to know. He picked up the stick to try again, this time careful to rest his paws on a different scratch.

"Hello?" he meowed. "Hello, hello?"

There was no response this time. Jayfeather sighed in relief.

"Oh, good it is you. I'm glad. You're the only one who really listens to me."

Jayfeather began talking about his day, how Hollyleaf disappeared into the tunnels and never came back out again, how Ashfur was dead before he could reveal his secret to the rest of the Clan ("Don't ask me what the secret was, Stick! It was a secret!"), and how he still misses Half-Moon even though it had been a long time since he'd seen her.

"I'm glad I can speak to you, stick," he said. "You're the only one who seems to listen to me."

He put down the stick and stepped out of the cave, feeling that the warmth of the sun had faded. It must be sunset. He padded out of the little cave and followed the familiar pawprints back to camp.

The Stick remained stationary on the ground. A she-cat's voice sighed. A vague outline of a white cat with dark green eyes followed Jayfeather as he retreated.

"I miss you too, Jayfeather."

* * *

Oneshot #7 (requested!)

 _Darkstripe's Leadership Ceremony_

* * *

They reached Highstones long after darkness had fallen over the forest. The entire journey had been expectantly tense, with Yellowfang remaining silent and Darkstripe getting more and more unnerved as he started realizing what he had signed on for. Sure, he had expected to be made deputy when Tigerclaw was made leader, but he had never really thought about becoming leader. Tigerclaw would have made a great leader. He was everything a warrior should be. He would have made ThunderClan great and Darkstripe would have ridden on his curtails and eventually learned how to become an even greater leader. That was the plan.

This was not that plan.

They halted at the entrance to Mothermouth. The night air was extra chilly and Darkstripe shivered, feeling like claws were swiping through his thick fur coat and scraping against his skin. The black cave looked like a giant toothless maw waiting to swallow him whole and beyond the entrance was just a never ending pit.

Yellowfang turned on him. "Alright, furbrain. There are two rules you must know. First, you can never tell anyone anything that happens during a leadership ceremony." Darkstripe flattened his ears as the she-cat leaned in closer, her eyes narrow and angry. "Second, you listen to what StarClan tells you and you listen well."

 _Am I going to have to deal with her for the rest of my life?_

Darkstripe hoped the fleabag would die soon and give him some peace, and he watched her march straight into the mothermouth. Darkstripe jerked forward and followed, tracking her scent. They travelled for so long that Darkstripe thought she was leading away from the mothermouth instead of towards it, before light suddenly exploded into the cave. The tall and wide Moonstone stood before them both, filling Darkstripe with sudden unexplained dread. He halted and stared at the glowing majesty of StarClan, watching it with awe and horror.

"Well, are you going to stand there all day?" Yellowfang asked, whiskers twitching in amusement or annoyance. Darkstripe couldn't tell.

With a steadying breath, the dark tabby padded towards the Moonstone on shakey legs and pressed his nose against the oddly warm rock. He blinked, and suddenly he stood up. He was standing a field of stars, surrounded by many cats.

"Is this StarClan?" he asked, excitement tingling his paws. Was he really being accepted as leader of ThunderClan?

 _Of course I am!_

A cat stepped forward, and Darkstripe recognized the ex-deputy of ThunderClan.

"Redtail!" Darkstripe meowed gratefully as he bounded toward the tortoiseshell. "Have you come to give me a life?"

Redtail narrowed his eyes and leaned away from Darkstripe like he was covered in hopping fleas. "Do you know what Tigerclaw did?"

Darkstripe blinked. "What do you mean? I know he killed Bluestar."

"He killed me, too," meowed Redtail solemnly. "And he's going to kill you."

"What!" said Darkstripe before Redtail touched his nose. It felt shockingly cold and unfriendly.

"I give you a life for wisdom. Know who your enemies are and who your friends are."

Fire and fear filled him from nose to tail, sweeping through his whole body and making his fur smoke on his body. Darkstripe wanted to yowl but nothing happened. It was over in a flash. He blinked and watched as Redtail padded away into the field. Another tortoiseshell stepped up, her pretty eyes sparkling with grim determination.

"Spottedleaf," Darkstripe said, taking in her sweet scent.

"Darkstripe," said Spottedleaf coolly. "I give you a life for love. Love your friends and they'll love you too."

Darkstripe blinked in confusion before she touched his nose. A warmth spread over his whole body, causing him to sigh and relax. A blossoming gentle love filled him from head to toe, and he felt like he could suddenly sprout wings and fly. When he blinked, Spottedleaf was already gone and another cat walked out of the scenery.

The third cat was a familiar grayish-blue. An uneasy feeling spread through Darkstripe and he licked his suddenly dry jowls. "Bluestar?"

Bluestar's icy blue eyes were so intense they seemed like they could somehow cut him in half. "You would never have been my choice for leader of ThunderClan." Her icy blue eyes stared deep into his eyes and he felt cold, wondering if Bluestar knew what he did.

 _Of course she does!_

"I never would have sided with Tigerclaw had I know he was working for that traitor," he blurted out suddenly, desperate to amend whatever mistake Bluestar thought he had made.

Bluestar lifted her head and looked over him, ignoring his words and his pleading gaze. "I give you a life for acceptance. Some cats are going to be born different, but that doesn't make them any less a warrior."

Darkstripe felt his fur prickle. He knew she was talking about Fireheart. "B-But we are ThunderClan cats!" he meowed. "We are born in the wild and stronger for it!"

"Once," said Bluestar, "long ago, the Clans were also kittypets and loners. It was a cat with nobility and honor who made them into what would later become the Clans."

Bluestar touched noses with him, and Darkstripe felt his like his mind had exploded. The whole world seemed to have become connected before his very eyes. When he could finally open his eyes again, a fluffy-maned tom stood before him, hard green eyes staring into his soul.

"I give you a life for loyalty," said Lionheart, "Above all else, a leader should be loyal to their Clan."

Darkstripe felt even more uneasy when Lionheart said nothing more. He had never known Lionheart to be so cold to a fellow Clanmate, and he couldn't help but think he had done something seriously wrong. This was not what he expected during his leadership ceremony. Lionheart touched his nose and his whole body felt like it was going to explode and his paws were going to run off in every direction.

A mottled raven-black she-cat with green eyes stepped up to him. She did not introduce herself and Darkstripe didn't ask. He could tell from her scent that she was a ThunderClan cat... and he reminded him of Tigerclaw.

"Don't tell me he killed you, too," meowed Darkstripe.

 _Did everyone Tigerclaw kill go to StarClan?_

"No, my son didn't," meowed the she-cat softly. "With this life, I give you forgiveness. Some slights need to be forgiven."

When she touched his nose, Darkstripe felt like he was suddenly being squeezed all over before it let him go. He somehow didn't collapsed from it. A pure white she-cat Darkstripe didn't recognize had taken her place and touched his nose without preamble.

"A life for compassion," she meowed. "Care for the Clan as you would a younger, more innocent you."

Darkstripe suddenly felt sick, his whole body shaking as memories flooded his mind and his heart started to sink unexpectedly. It didn't help when the white she-cat was replaced by a small white kitten. His heart felt like it was going to explode as the tiny tom touched his nose.

"Ah' give ya life fah cunning," squeaked the tom. "Alwahys be _smart_!"

Darkstripe could see and hear nothing else. He was alone except for his mind and the feel of the land underneath him. It felt like he was lost in this darkness, in the cold.

Another cat touched his nose and he was brought back to StarClan. A speckled, golden-furred she-cat stood before him.

"I give you a life for friendship," she meowed. "You should know what true friendship is."

A burning passion filled Darkstripe from nose to tail and his heart started pounding. His instincts screamed at him about the danger and he wanted to run and fight somewhere not here.

The last cat padded up to him and he recognized the ThunderClan elder, One-eye. The she-cat was whole again, and much younger, her pale grey pelt a tad darker and lusher.

"Hello, Darkstripe," she meowed.

"Shouldn't I be called Darkstar?" he meowed in confusion. "I'm a Clan leader now."

"Not until the ceremony is over," meowed One-eye harshly. "You were always impatient, Darkstripe, just like Tigerclaw. You'd think these lives would actually give you the qualities they represent but they don't. They only give you a glimpse of how these things feel. It's your choice to use these before you lose them."

The warrior touched noses with Darkstripe and Darkstripe suddenly felt his unease slip away and his heartbeat steady.

"With this life, I give you determination. Stay true to the warrior code, Darkstripe, or you will lose your Clan forever."

The strength seemed to slowly leave him and he felt very tired, sick and exhausted.

"Is it over?" he asked.

In response, the whole of StarClan deadpanned. "Darkstar. Darkstar."

Darkstar felt his heart start to fall into his stomach as the whole of StarClan seemed to run away from him into a small white dot in the distance. "Wait!" He shouted, but he was rooted to the spot.

He jerked awake, padded away from the Moonstone and vomited almost immediately. He blinked at the dark cave around him and meowed in a voice which sounded so quiet and scared. "Yellowfang?"

"Darkstar, I take it?" meowed the ex-warrior from the darkness, sounding vaguely amused.

Comforted by her presence and unnerved because he was comforted, Darkstar staggered towards the entrance. "Let's go," he meowed, tasting the bile in his mouth.

He had no idea what to expect when he returned to ThunderClan, but he wanted to return as quickly as he could. He couldn't pin down what he would do when he got there, but he wanted to curl up in the warrior den and wake up as if all this had been a dream.

* * *

Oneshot #8

 _Rusty's Kitten Weeks_

* * *

Rusty could remember back to the day when he started walking. Like his brothers and sisters, Rusty had been crawling and wiggling around for most of a moon. But unlike his brothers and sisters, his sense of adventure pushed him to his limits. He wanted to walk a soon as possible and tried every day.

At first, he tried to gather his legs them under himself and tried to push himself upright. Then, he tried shoving his legs out before him and pushing himself onto them. They slid out from under him and he landed with a squeak. He watch his mother stand up and walk out of the nest and tried to mimic it. He had no sense of balance, but he stuck out his paws and slammed them down in an attempt to mimic walking, waddling around clumsily. He made a few sturdy steps before slumping over the edge of the nest with an indignant squeak, halfway out of the nest. Rusty's tail stuck up straight like a flag, proud of being the first of his litter to accomplish freedom, even if only half-accomplished.

"You look like a four-legged duck!" squeaked Princess, watching with wide eyes. "You should stay in the nest!"

"You don't know even know what that is!" squeaked Rusty, eyes bulging angrily.

He stumbled out of the soft nest and onto harder, rougher carpet. His staggered back in shock at the sheer open space in front of him, landing on his tail with a squeak. His head jerked around, trying to absorb everything within sight, often glancing over the same thing three times in row because he'd forget about it a second later. Finally, his gaze settled onto the only moving thing in the room.

The cream-colored queen noticed him and purred loudly, padding over to him. "Couldn't you wait one more moon before deciding to leave the nest?" she asked, amused.

Rusty blinked up at his mother. "I wanna see outside!" he squeaked loudly. "I wanna catcha mouse!"

"You'll catch one, Rusty," said the queen, her voice softening with sadness. "Some day, I promise, but for now, stay in your nest."

Rusty wrinkled nose in defiance only to squeak when he was picked up by his scruff. His mother carried him back into the nest and set him beside his sister, Princess.

"I told you you should have stayed in the nest!" she squeaked.

Rusty gave her an ugly look and focused on forcing himself back to his paw. He made for the exit only for a leg to block his way.

"Stay inside, Rusty," meowed his mother.

Rusty squeaked loudly and defiantly, gazing at the world outside the nest in longing before his mother turned him around firmly and pointed him back towards the center of the nest.

 _I'll get out tomorrow,_ he promised himself.

Tomorrow he did not get out, nor the next day. Rusty was practically having fits and kittens. At one moon, he was toddling around the nest itching to stretch his legs outside of the den and his brothers and sisters were struggling to follow in his wake. The only one not struggling was Princess, who seemed content to crawl everywhere, forgoing walking entirely.

"Waddle, waddle," she teased, watching her siblings struggle to pad around.

Rusty tried to ignore her, his ears flicking in irritation. He padded around, his legs sturdy underneath him but bent like he was heavier than he actually was. He padded cautiously towards the entrance, hearing the distant crunch-crunch noises that he had always heard every morning when his mother disappeared. He launched himself over the high edge of the nest, his back legs catching on fabric and causing him to land sprawling. He blinked at the massive room, his gaze instantly looking towards where he saw his mother last, and saw the cream tabby's slim back. She hadn't spotted him.

A rush of excitement and energy filled him, and he immediately bolted across the room. He ran so hard and fast that he end up sliding across the floor the moment his paws hit smooth stone. His paws instantly fell out from under him and he landed neatly on his chest with his hindlegs splayed on the carpet. He twisted around, confused, before pushing him to his paws again. He yelped when his mother suddenly tugged on his tail.

"Rusty," she meowed. "What are you doing out of the nest?" She didn't sound angry but calm.

Caught, Rusty ducked his head and meowed, "I wanted to explore."

"Humans help me," meowed his mother. "Come back to the nest, Rusty. I promise to take you exploring tomorrow."

Rusty perked up, pleased with the compromise, and padded after his mother back into the nest.

Princess greeted him with a cheeky grin. "Waddle, waddle."

Rusty puffed up his chest and toddled alongside his mother. "Mom said I could explore more tomorrow," meowed Rusty, happy to rub it in her face.

Princess stuck out her tongue and turned away, fur ruffled.

Days passed with all the siblings getting better at walking. Princess finally decided to get up off her tail and walk a few steps, but she stopped and complained loudly about it was just so hard. Rusty, his brother and his other sister, largely ignored her. It took around half a moon before the four of them were walking around perfectly. It was then that the kittens met their mother's human masters for the first time.

Rusty and his siblings were led to a white stone dish with a wet pile of slop on it. Rusty shied away from the giant pinky creatures who walked around on feet the size of his mother, and hurriedly sneaked around their big paws to catch a taste of the slop. It tasted delicious, but Rusty didn't think it tasted as good as a mouse might. When he felt an abnormal paw on his shoulders, he ducked down and darted away, rejoining his mother who sat watching her kits eat.

"Mom," he meowed, "can I have a mouse?"

His mother sighed. "Why do you want a mouse, Rusty?"

"I wanna catch one, like the one in my dream!" he meowed. He padded around excitedly. "I wanna run around in the undergrowth and catch a mouse and a squirrel."

His mother shook her head. "If your human owners have any mice running around their house, I'm sure they'll be happy to let you have them."

Rusty vibrated with energy. He stood with his tail erect, wondering if he should even wait that long for his mouse. He padded away from his mother and siblings, back to the room where their nest lay and looked beyond it to a wall of thin glass. A wall of rustling green leaves hanging low from the other side of the fence seemed to beckon to Rusty. His gaze looked down towards the ground, hoping to catch the sight of something small and brown, or a flash of gray tail fluff. However, neither squirrel or mouse made their appearance today.

 _I will find you eventually_ , he promised, his lips curling. _And I will eat you_.

The days passed slowly for Rusty. His paws became more assured and hardly wobbled. His backlegs trembled whenever he tried to straighten them, but he was hardly concerned by this. He padded around anxiously bothered by dreams he could barely remember.

His mother noticed her son had stopped exploring as much as before. "What is bothering you, my son?"

Rusty paused and looked up at his mother. "Nutmeg, I keep having this dream about this strange place with humans everywhere. They would put me to sleep and, when I woke up, I wouldn't smell like myself."

Nutmeg twitched her ears thoughtfully. "It sounds like you're dreaming of the vet," she meowed. "When kittens like you reach the age of two moons, humans take you to the vet to make sure you're healthy."

Rusty felt uncomfortable. "Why did I smell blood?"

Nutmeg frowned. "Sometimes vet remove things that are dangerous for a cat to have, then they seal them back up."

"What could be so dangerous?" Rusty asked, frightened.

The queen realized she was scaring her son and decided to drop the subject. "Nothing that you need to worry about, Rusty."

But Rusty felt he should be worried about it, and he did as his second moon approached. Subconsciously, his eyes darted around for an opening, a doorway, where he could make his escape. When he closed his eyes to sleep, he was trapped in a room and trying to escape, before waking up from a dream.

 _If they get me,_ he thought in his dream, panic and horror filling his throat and preventing him from screaming, _I won't be a tom anymore!_

* * *

Oneshot #9

 _Rusty Becomes Firekit at Three Moons  
_

* * *

 _He was in a small room, cluttered with three humans. They towered over him and reached for him with their large pink paws. He ducked and dodged, but a hand closed around his shoulders and_

Rusty jolted awake. The young tom rose quickly to his paws and padded out of the nest, expecting humans to flood into the room from beyond. The sun was only starting to rise, turning the black sky into a purplish tint. Someone was moving around inside of the kitchen. When Rusty padded up to the doorway, he was sure to remain quiet. The adult male human was moving around in the kitchen and making noise. Rusty watched him carefully, remembering how the human was usually not around during the afternoon.

 _He's going to leave_ , he realized, _I can escape._

When the human looked like he was headed towards the door, Rusty bolted out of hiding and bounded after him. The first door was left wide open, but there was a second door underneath it. This door made to close rapidly before something unseen stopped it, and it slowed. Excitement filled Rusty as he thanked whatever higher powers was out there and he bounded full force towards the door. He stumbled down the first step and ducked as the door closed.

His nose twitched at his first breath of fresh air, but movement caught his attention and he started. The human was walking down a small white path towards a bigger, wider dark gray path. Not wanting to get caught, Rusty stumbled down the other steps and padded off the white path and into the sharp, green blades of grass, around the house and out of sight. He poked his head out, watching the human closely. His former owner padded up the steps, and into the house.

Excitement filled Rusty from head to foot, and he allowed himself an excited squeak. He was free. He turned around, trying to absorb the world with his baby blue eyes, before noticing the wall of green leaves beyond the back of the fence. Excitement filled him. He padded up to the bottom of the fence and weaved through the gaps onto the other side in the backyard. He ran to the back fence, weaved through it once more, and found himself at the edge of a forest. The smells of small life and sounds of birds filled him with joy. He shook with emotion.

Without a second thought, the two moon old tom padded into the forest. He opened his mouth to smell and caught a strong scent of many cats, their scent stale. He squeaked loudly, confused, and stopped when he could not longer hear or see anything. He squeaked again, and he heard the sounds of bushes moving only to realize that it was the bushes beside him.

"What is a kittypet doing here?" hissed a tom.

"H-hello?" he meowed fearfully.

A large pale yellow tabby tom with dark black stripes padded out of the bush. Sharp amber eyes blinked down at him in surprise, before the stranger's face wrinkled in a snarl.

"Well, kittypet?"

Rusty didn't know what a kittypet was but it sounded like a bad thing, and he did not consider himself a bad thing. "I'm not a kittypet!" he meowed.

The tabby tom snorted. "You smell like a twoleg."

"I do not!" Rusty meowed. "What's a twoleg?"

The tabby tom's whiskers twitched. "Those giant pink creatures with two legs, duh!"

"Oh," said Rusty, "but I'm a cat."

"I can see that," snarled the tom.

"Who are you talking to, Longpaw?"

A big black tabby walked out of the forest, eyes narrowing down at the kit. "A kit," he meowed with a growl. "He smells like twoleg trash."

Rusty blinked at the giant dark tom and meowed, "Hello."

"What are you doing on our territory?" snarled the dark tom. "This isn't a place for kits."

Rusty flattened himself on the ground, suddenly wishing he could somehow melt through the floor. "I-I was escaping."

"From what?" snarled the dark tom. "Your twoleg house?"

"Yeah!" meowed Rusty enthusiastically. "They were going to _cut_ me!"

Longpaw's eyes widened in alarm and lowered to the ground in shock, his long tail tucking under him. "At _two moons_?"

The bigger tom shushed him, his gaze flickering coldly over him. "You can't stay here."

"He's a kit," meowed Longpaw to the other tom. "We're supposed to protect kits."

" _Clan_ kits," responded the tom. "Not _kittypet_ kits."

"Bluestar wouldn't see him that way," meowed Longpaw seriously. "She'll want to know about this and then she can decide what to do."

Seeing that he wasn't going to have his way in this situation, the bigger tom shot a final hateful glare at Rusty before nodding his head. "Fine, but you're carrying him."

Longpaw, who looked to be eight moons, made a noise at this and stared hard at Rusty like it was all his fault he was doing this. Rusty squeaked when he felt himself suddenly picked up by his scruff, but he curled up instinctively and became quiet quickly. Longpaw grunted under the weight.

Rusty's head swam with scents and colors, before the noise of many cats hit his ears and the smell of more cats filled his mouth.

"What is _that_?" meowed a she-cat with a squeak in her mew.

"It's a kit!" meowed a queen.

"Where did you find him?" meowed another queen.

"He smells of twolegs!" snarled a warrior.

"Send him back!" said another.

"I'll fetch, Bluestar," said the dark tom.

Longpaw padded into the shadow of a big rock and dropped Rusty into the grass, who squeaked. Trembling, the young tom watched with wide eyes as the Clan gathered around, greeting him with a swarm of mews. A white tom with a bushy red tail padded over and yowled.

"Silence! Back up! You're scaring the kit!"

The Clan respectfully back off, watching the young kit with a mix of weary and concerned gazes. The mostly white tom leaned closer and meowed, "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said.

A blue she-cat padded out of a dark shadow underneath the rock and looked around at the silent Clan. She padded over to the red kit and gave him one glance before addressing the big dark tabby tom.

"It's good that you brought him here," she said. "The warrior code says that we must protect kits, no matter where they might have come from." Then she looked at the young tom. "The twolegs will never hurt you here, young kit. What is your name?"

"Rusty," he meowed.

"Why did you run into the forest, Rusty?"

The young tom blinked at her. "Well, I remember hunting here in a dream. I felt safe in the dream and... I was hunting a mouse!" He said that last bit with pride, not realizing that being able to hunt was not very impressive here. "I caught it, too, but then I woke up."

"Really?" meowed the she-cat.

"Uh-huh," meowed Rusty enthusiastically.

"It seems that StarClan has brought you to us, young Rusty," meowed the she-cat. "You were lucky that our warriors found you before ShadowClan did."

"ShadowClan?" meowed Rusty.

"Bluestar," said a big tom, his fur a dark brown with black stripes. "Are you sure letting this kittypet into our Clan is a good idea?"

Bluestar's whiskers twitched. "We could always use more warriors, Tigerclaw."

"But not more mouths to feed," said Tigerclaw.

"True, but the warrior code is clear. We cannot reject this kit." Her eyes sparked as she looked at Rusty. "Would you be willing to join our Clan?"

Rusty blinked at her. "Sure?"

"Are you sure?" meowed a yellow tabby tom. "Clan life demands great sacrifice, young kit. When you become a warrior, you make a promise to put the Clan over your own life."

"You'd be saving my life, though," said Rusty. "Right?"

"That we would," meowed Tigerclaw.

"So, it would only be fair to return that favor?" Rusty meowed. "Right?"

Bluestar nodded.

"Will you join?" asked Redtail.

"Yes," said the red tom, bouncing on his paws. "Can I hunt mice now?"

Bluestar's whiskers twitched. "Later," she promised, "when you're older."

The blue she-cat stepped back addressed the whole Clan. "This kit wants to join ThunderClan. I believe that StarClan sent him here for a purpose, and I believe that in order to serve their wishes, we must accept him into the Clan. If we send him back to his twolegs, they will send him to the cutter. Are there any objections?"

The Clan blinked at her thoughtfully, but no one said anything. Tigerclaw's tail tip twitched.

"Then, from this day forward until he earns his apprentice and warrior name," said Bluestar, "this kit shall be known as Firekit in honor of his flame-colored pelt."

* * *

Oneshot #10 (requested!)

 _CinderpeltXFireheart  
_

* * *

The nursery smelled of warmth and creamy milk. When Cinderpelt opened her eyes, she couldn't help but shift slightly. Her whole body was tired from giving birth just a few days before, and she wished she had enough strength to stand up and walked around the camp. Mewling made her eyes fall to the three perfect kittens at her belly, two blue-and-cream she-cat and one dark gray tom. She was sad that none of them looked like their father, but grateful that three out of four had survived the first painful days and the harshness of leafbare.

She waited expectantly for her mate to arrive. He carried in a large vole, his dark green eyes landing on his mate and the kits, warmth flooding through them. Cinderpelt couldn't help but purr.

"Did you catch it fresh, Fireheart?" she asked the deputy teasingly.

The fiery red tom blinked at her. "I got it off the freshkill pile. Sorry."

Cinderpelt couldn't help the throaty purr. "Throw it over here and come see you new kits! I still haven't named them."

The deputy stepped into the nursery, glancing around briefly before settling down on a spot a tail length into the den. He leaned over the kits, as if afraid breathing on them might kill them. "They look beautiful, Cinderpelt," he meowed.

Cinderpelt purred. "Go ahead and name one, mousebrain!"

Fireheart blinked. "Uhm, we should name this one... Graykit." He gestured to the gray tom.

"I'll name this one... Dapplekit," meowed Cinderpelt, eyes narrowed playfully. "What's the last one going to be called?"

"Spottedkit?" he meowed, looking at Cinderpelt for approval.

The queen purred. "Graykit, Spottedkit and Dapplekit!" she meowed triumphantly. "They'll be the best apprentices in the Clan!"

Fireheart relaxed and purred. "And they'll have the best mother in the Clan, too." He reached forward and nuzzled her cheek. "I love you, Cinderpelt."

"I love you, too, Fireheart."


End file.
